


Silence of the angel

by UlsPi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Queer Themes, Suicide, Trans Crowley (Good Omens), Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Young profiler, Anthony Crowley is tasked with interrogating Mr Fell, the man who protected those who needed protection and ate those who displeased him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. It's the darkest thing I've written.

Dr Ela Hai told Anthony Crowley to come to her office immediately, and Anthony Crowley of course obeyed. He'd been laughed at as Dr Hai's _blue-eyed boy_ , which was frankly cruel - Crowley had yellow eyes with bilateral coloboma, of which he was so aware that he used a pair of stylish sunglasses to cover them. 

And after all, all those mockers, what did they have? Crowley had been trained to be Dr Hai's replacement as the top profiler with the Met Police. 

"I want you to meet an old patient of mine. It won't be easy, Crowley, but he refused to talk to me. He likes a challenge… Listen, Crowley, however good both you and I are, the man I need you to talk to is better than both of us combined. You want to catch Archangel, right?"

Crowley winced. He really was too sensitive for a profiler, but Archangel wasn't a regular offender. He seemed to be at least ten different people, for example. He hadn't killed anyone, but he sure as hell drove a lot of people to suicide. 

"I can't profile him. You can't profile him. Mr Fell, though, he could…" 

"Mr Fell…" Crowley repeated in horror. 

"Yes. Now, forget everything you've read about him. Just… go and talk to him, ok? He… he knows people, ok? He's… he's… like a fox. I want you to trick a fox."

"Dr Hai, I… I mean… _You_ gave up on him."

"Oh no, Crowley, _he_ gave up on me. I wasn't interesting anymore. I'm sorry, but your life story isn't the simplest one… so, he has his fun figuring you out, and you get us Archangel. You solve this, Crowley, you are my right hand man until my retirement, and then you're me."

"That's… very… wicked of you." Crowley tried to smile.

"I know you're afraid. I know you're here because you thought that was the way to deal with your fears. Please… I want this bastard behind the bars."

"You behave just like the god of my fucking parents."

"And haven't we made sure they rot in hell?" Dr Hai smiled. It didn't look quite human, but it comforted Crowley.

"They are." 

"Mr Fell will share your sentiments, I promise. You might make a good friend… I mean… there are worse people than him."

"Well… he ate his victims."

"That's why I'm asking you to forget everything you've read about him. Just… please, Crowley."

Crowley sighed and agreed, and that's how he was being led down a dark and scary hall by a grumpy old Scotsman who kept cursing at every cell. Then the orderly, Shadwell was his name, stopped before a heavy door. 

"This here, laddy, is the way to them big devils. Witches. You just walk down the corridor. Mr Fell's cell is the last one. Fear no evil, Mr Fell will protect you, he will…" 

And with that Shadwell unlocked the door, pushed Crowley inside and walked away. 

"But how…" Crowley began to ask and stopped. The air was heavy and stinking. Each cell seemed to be run over by rats or just some foggy spirits of the lowest circles of hell, bogs, bugs, begging… Crowley's head was spinning, so he bravely walked forward. 

The first cell contained someone quiet. The second cell had someone snoring.

The man in the third cell yelled to Crowley:

"I can smell your cunt, you sissy girl!" 

Crowley hissed back, and the shadow in the third cell stumbled back. Crowley, forgetting himself, gripped the bars and hissed inside, to someone curling on the floor in the corner:

"You call me a girl one more time… you'll think of this place as of heaven."

"My dear boy, there's no need for this kind of language," came a soft voice from the fourth cell. 

As if bewitched, Crowley walked over there and saw a blond man with piercing blue eyes. "Hello. One of Dr Hai's, aren't you?"

Crowley took in Mr Fell's surroundings - books, books, books, nothing else had mattered apparently… 

"I… am. I know you. I came by your shop ten years ago…"

"Oh right!" Mr Fell snapped his fingers to summon the memory. "A lost boy… so scared, so wet… And look at you now. One of Dr Hai's… I wonder if she knew, sending you to me, that you found shelter under my roof. Please, do take a seat." Crowley looked and saw a shaking old garden chair.

"Pardon. It's the best Shadwell could come up with. Now, my dear boy… what was your name again?"

Crowley smirked, taking a seat.

"You know just who I am," he replied.

"Sounds like a true demon… I'm afraid, I don't remember…" Mr Fell looked perplexed, genuinely perplexed.

"I'm Anthony Crowley. You let me hide in your shop. It was raining cats and dogs. I only knew you as Aziraphale. You seemed so impeccably kind… As it turns out my first keeper and protector ate his customers for breakfast."

"I wonder if Dr Hai knew that too…"

"Cut the crap, Mr Fell."

"Oh dear… so rude. I always ate the rude. And the rude alone… Ever wondered what happened to your parents, my _dear boy?_ "

"Oh, ate them, did you?"

"Unfortunately not… I'm sorry, my dear. They never tried to buy any books."

"Well… that's the purpose of a shop, isn't it?" Crowley crossed his legs.

"There's a difference…" Mr Fell paced his cell wringing his hands. "One can be unaware of social rules. Understandable. Acceptable. Doesn't even need forgiveness. Or one can feel so entitled… your parents were like that, weren't they?"

"They were. I wish you had eaten them. You'd be dead from so much poison, but… alright." 

"My dear, why did Dr Hai send you to me? Is it about that _Archangel_? I think I could help you with him. He's rude, he is. A very naughty thing. But… I'm but an inmate here. Say, I cooperate… what do I get in return?"

"My endless gratitude?"

"For securing your career? Of course. Does it mean you'd visit me? Talk to me? Bring me books and newspapers? Solve crossword puzzles with me?"

"Are you proposing, Mr Fell?"

"You wish I had been…" Mr Fell smirked.

"If you help me, I owe you. If I owe you, then… called me a true demon? Well, I will be your true demon, and whatever it is I can do for you, I will do it."

"What an honourable young man you are, my dear… Well, let's get it done. Do you know what they used to call me back in Soho before some vigilante sold me out?"

"Angel…" Crowley whispered.

"Indeed. This one, he's calling himself Archangel. He thinks he's better. He doesn't get his hands dirty. Just… convinces a person they don't deserve to live… and he's charming, isn't he? So charming you can't catch him because everyone wants to protect him subconsciously."

"You… you know him?"

"Well… like I know my own reflection. He's everything I'm not. He's rude, for the start. He thinks that… that love and freedom are sins. Every single person he drove to suicide was queer. Somewhere far, somewhere remote and lonely… and here comes the man who understands you at first, then twists your mind into a knot until you can't breathe."

"You know him. His name!"

"He thinks he's better than me… thinks he's higher than me. Who would it be, dear boy? Oh, who would it be… By the way, that… terrible person, my neighbour. What did he tell you?"

"I won't repeat it."

"Of course. You shouldn't. Don't worry, little demon. He won't say a word again. See, people I disagree with, they tend to disappear. I don't regret being here. Now, my brother… he's of a different sort…"

Mr Fell walked over to his bed and lay down with a book.

Crowley remained sitting for a while. Then he stood up, but was stopped by Mr Fell's soft voice. "Your hair, dear boy… fire incarnate. How could I have forgotten? Rush now. You have a devil to catch, my little demon."

***

Crowley called Dr Hai as soon as he left the facility.

"Mr Fell… Does he have… a brother?"

"Yes, why? Gabriel Fell, he's a minister… oh fuck, Crowley. The church won't get it… brilliant job, though. Oh fuck, what a family!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware! There's terrible queerphobic language. Be not afraid, though. Someone is about to be turned into stew... well, I guess, be afraid.

Crowley sat in front of his computer and researched Mr Fell. 

When he was arrested, the LGBT+ organizations didn't know how to react. His shop had been a safe place for every runaway youth, every teenager thrown out of their house for many years. 

In the end the joint statement was that while everyone Mr Fell had ever helped was eternally grateful for his support in the hour of need, they couldn't endorse someone proved guilty of murders and cannibalism. 

Crowley sighed. There had been numerous posts on social media where people shared their stories. One of them caught Crowley's attention since he could have been the one to write it. 

_ I came out to my parents when I was sixteen. I knew they wouldn't accept me but I couldn't lie anymore. I'm a man and I intend to live as such. My parents are religious people, but I hoped they'd be merciful. I found myself alone on the streets of London. I had heard from friends that there was a man referred to as Angel. That I could come to his bookshop and seek refuge. I barely remember what happened next, to be honest. I was cold and hungry. Angel, that is Mr Fell, let me in. I had a physician by my side almost immediately. I got hot food, a warm bed, a change of clothes… I remember clearly they were unisex, clean and smelling of lavender. Mr Fell himself told me I could stay as long as I needed.  _

_ I spent two weeks there. Mr Fell would talk to me, would carefully ask questions about my life, but he admitted he couldn't provide any psychological help. He brought in someone from an appropriate organisation. He himself found me a family, an elderly gay couple whom I'm proud to call my parents. Any legal issues that must have risen, Mr Fell took care of them, sparing no expense. He never accepted any words of gratitude, insisting that it had been an honour for him to help me.  _

_ When I heard about Mr Fell being a serial killer, I was sick. I didn't know what to think. My angel turned out to be a monster. I still don't know what to think. I wish I could ask him… _

_ I didn't even know his family name. He was Angel. He introduced himself as Aziraphale, but now the press says his given name is Ezra. I looked up the name. Aziraphale was the angel of the Eastern Gate, guarding Eden… I'm torn. I'm heartbroken.  _

Crowley clenched his teeth and fists. He knew from the information he had found in the archive that each and every person who had disappeared after an altercation with Mr Fell was an abuser, a bigot, a blackmailer. That information hadn't been released to the press, of course. No journalist bothered to find it out. 

"He really got into your head, didn't he?" Said a soft voice above Crowley. He looked up to see Dr Hai, sad and concerned, but smiling. She had that strange, inhuman smile that always comforted Crowley, no matter what he had been thinking.

"He did. I want this case. I want to review his case too." 

"My stubborn Crowley… Mr Fell has been behind the bars for ten years. During this decade… I can't count how many queer profilers and detectives tried to review his case. You have no right to reopen the investigation, but," she leaned on the table, "I'm not here and I don't know what you're up to. You're trying to catch a suspect who happens to be Mr Fell's brother, so it's only reasonable that you're reviewing his case, isn't it? And I'm not here. I trust you. I rely on you. Lord help those who'd like to defy me."

Crowley realised his mouth was dry. 

"You're not here. I have your trust and support. Whatever I do, I'm responsible for it, but you will protect me."

"Lovely… keep working then."

Crowley got himself another coffee and swallowed two energy chocolate bars. 

He found out that Mr Fell's shop was still there. It stopped functioning as a shop, although it had never been a proper shop anyway. Ms Marjorie Potts was the owner. A few stealth, anonymous online conversations confirmed that it remained a safe haven. Mr Fell turned out to be very rich, and Crowley wrote it down as another point he had to investigate. Ms Marjorie Potts now kept the place. Her personal information couldn't be found, so as soon as the sun rose, Crowley grabbed a croissant in the nearby bakery and went to Mr Fell's shop. 

***

Crowley didn't expect the building to bring so many unhappy memories. He immediately understood why Mr Fell had kept his distance from every person he had saved - he didn't want them to return. He had made sure their lives were good and he had disappeared from those lives afterwards. 

Crowley took a few deep breaths to calm his nausea down and called his real parents. Only one of his mothers was awake, and she did her best to comfort him, but the uninvited memories kept flowing… 

"Well, then tell me, what are you thinking about?" His mother said quietly.

"How… how I was… hurt. How my parents… hit me. And hurt me. How I stumbled into his shop. How he found you. How… how when I told Dr Hai about all of it, she helped me… helped me put them where they are now."

"I couldn't ever approve of this, my little darling. They are innocent of what they are rotting for… But they hurt you, and I understand your desire for revenge… I'm so sorry we couldn't help you overcome it."

"I overcame it once my revenge was over."

"We love you no matter what. Regardless of any legal details, you're our son, and we're your mothers. We'll be here for you no matter what. We love you, little darling. We love you so, so much. We're so proud of you, of your career, of your success. Stay safe, little darling and… If you can free him… if you can free our Angel… then… then you're an angel too. We love you, little darling. Have a fruitful day."

"I… I love you too, mom. I love both of you so much. You're my everything."

"Well, I sincerely hope not, little darling. You deserve to be happy regardless of us."

"Love you, mom. Later."

"Later, little one." 

Crowley ended the call and looked at the building, dark and somehow not sinister at all. He walked up the steps, all eight of them and knocked.

The door was opened by a middle-aged woman. She had red hair, like Crowley. She felt like home, she seemed soothingly safe. 

"Ms Potts? I'm Anthony Crowley, I'm with the Met Police." Crowley showed her his badge. She didn't even glance at it.

"I remember you, dear. You were one of the last ones he helped. Call me Tracy. Come in."

Crowley followed her inside. The shop seemed asleep, the books were gathering dust, and Crowley felt as if he could hear a low hum coming from the very walls of the building. 

"They are in mourning. The books. The walls. Everything." Tracy said. "I'm going to bring you something to drink. You're paler than Death. Have a seat…"

Crowley kept standing until the woman put a hand on his shoulder.

"All who come back… they… they are not feeling well. It's not a happy place, dear. Not for you, anyway. Sit."

Crowley obliged. An old sofa was so soft and warm, Crowley thought he was about to fall asleep.

"Here. Darjeeling. Nice and strong. It's very early, after all. What brings you here,  _ little darling. _ "

Crowley's head snapped up.

"I'm a physician, Crowley… but… there are other things that I can see. I can see you,  _ little darling. _ You shouldn't be afraid."

"Eh… wh… don't you know why I came?"

"No. Just… a bit of your history. You're glowing with your mothers' love, you're glowing with  _ little darling.  _ I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable. The last time the police was here… they took him away." Tracy appeared both melancholic and furious.

"And what… what about those before me? I know that many people have tried to investigate, to… to clear Mr Fell's name."

"I never let them in. But you… you're so loved, Crowley, and Mr Fell… he's very interested in you." 

"Right… ok… I would have quoted Hamlet, but I have forgotten the exact quote."

" _ There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy science. _ " Tracy supplied. "Oh, he would have loved you, my dear… Maybe he does… The man is so full of love, and there has never been anyone he thought he could give it to… Do you like him?"

"I prefer the funny ones…" Crowley muttered. "He has… he's fucking beautiful, and now I owe him a debt. So…"

"So?"

"No bodies had even been found," Crowley said.

"Good boy… I always wondered how come no one has ever questioned it." Tracy smiled and nodded at the tea. Crowley took a sip and wanted to moan - it was just the right amount of bitter, a bit oily, snake of a tea… 

"Why… why is that?"

"Well. He told them he had eaten them and disposed of whatever remained. He's a gourmand, you see."

"Can it be that his confession was enough?" Crowley asked.

"When you're a gay man who had helped countless queer people, you get a bit of a reputation… There were a lot of people who welcomed his demise."

"I bet his brother was one of them." Crowley pushed his sunglasses up into his hair.

"Such lovely eyes. Coloboma… Are you more of a cat or a snake?" Tracy asked.

"A bit of both," Crowley admitted. "Tell me… about his brother."

"No,  _ you  _ tell me about his brother. I suppose we both know who he is." Tracy raised an eyebrow. 

"But… how… why… why would Mr Fell do it? And what happened to all those people?"

"Well… I'm not a good, a proper doctor, dear, which is to say I know where to hit a person to cause amnesia. All those people are somewhere far, without a single memory of their lives other than what our, Mr Fell's and my, associates told them. They are happy. They are renewed. Call it conversion therapy, if you want. They were converted. They used to be abusers, no one mourned them when they were gone… But now they have full lives, contribute to their communities. Converted."

"And Mr Fell… he told… he had eaten them?"

"I'm afraid there's some part of the whole story that you're missing, Crowley, and I can't tell them to you. See, whatever happens, I have to remain here. I have to keep doing what we have been doing… Can't make anyone disappear, unfortunately… I hope you're not recording me."

"No," Crowley said honestly.

"Good boy… So… Crowley. There's the Arrangement, that I can't tell you anything about. But there's one… Sorry to be so cryptic, my boy. I have a lot to protect."

***

Father Gabriel Fell sat at his study and was looking through his notes. 

His parish was rich and respectable. It was also one hundred percent white and heteronormative, or as father Gabriel would put it,  _ normal _ . 

Father Gabriel supported a few  _ normal  _ charities - those against abortion, those against education, those against  _ abominations  _ like father Gabriel's own brother, whom he had disowned publicly long before Mr Fell was arrested.

Father Gabriel had never harmed a fly, unless the fly recognised its misery and ended its own life. Father Gabriel was always there to help a fly realise certain truths. 

In his notes father Gabriel had names and addresses of lonely and unhappy people who lived in remote places and whose very existence was a blasphemy against the Lord… The Lord would be horrified to find out what their name was used for, but father Gabriel had convinced himself long ago that if the Lord remained silent, then  _ he  _ approved. 

Once or twice a month father Gabriel would dress as a secular man and drive to those remote places. He would pretend to be lost, he would be charming and kind, he would return to visit, he would talk and speak  _ the truth  _ to those unhappy lonely people, until said people would be found dead in their homes, with a note, containing a confession of their sins, by their corpses. 

Father Gabriel would thank his deity then, for granting him the charm and the power to make the people see their own depravity and condemn themselves to hell by adding suicide to the list of their sins. 

Had it not been for the Arrangement, father Gabriel would have done so much god's work in London… He still had to be careful. His deranged brother still got the papers. Father Gabriel campaigned for the most inhuman conditions in prisons but alas, his brother was in a psychiatric facility… He was afraid at first, but seeing as he had been supported by the divine will itself, he allowed himself a few letters to some newspapers. He signed them as  _ Archangel.  _ He wouldn't have let his brother be any higher than father Gabriel. 

He had deeply regretted that he had wasted eight years of his brother's confinement trying to honour the request of someone who had no honour… And father Gabriel was still keeping his word. No  _ abomination  _ in London had received their well deserved punishment from father Gabriel's hands. 

Gabriel closed his notebook and walked to his car. It was a gift from one of his parishioners whom father Gabriel had helped to get rid of his  _ abomination  _ of a daughter, a sleek white Mercedes. 

The moment Gabriel secured the seatbelt, he felt a blade against his throat. 

"What the…" he began, but couldn't continue. His brother, little Ezra, the shame of the family, the serial killer, was sitting on the passenger seat. 

"Now, my dear. I believe we have a lot to discuss."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Gabriel hissed. The blade moved, and Gabriel winced in pain, as blood spilled over his clothes. 

"See. The Arrangement was that I let you send me to prison, while you stay far from any person in London. I underestimated you, dear brother. You still found your wicked way to harm those I chose to protect. To think, you're wasting your time so far from your parish… and call yourself  _ Archangel _ … You really have no taste, do you, brother? Now… My offer is this. As you know, I ate those who displeased me. Just yesterday I made sure that a neighbour of mine choked on his tongue… I'm persuasive, brother, and you know it. After all, I wrote every single sermon of yours, and you still harmed my people… So, I'm going to eat you piece by piece as you watch." 

Gabriel blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please proceed with caution. There's cannibalism here, dismemberment and overall this chapter and the next are very Lecter.

_ A few hours earlier _

Shadwell brought breakfast. Per usual he began with Mr Fell - Mr Fell was the most secure key to Tracy's heart, and Shadwell wanted Tracy to at least like him. 

Moving backwards, Shadwell saw that the inmate in the third cell from the entrance had been dead for at least a night.

"He had it coming, laddy," Shadwell returned to Mr Fell who was eating his terrible breakfast as if he had been at the Ritz, a book in front of him and his movements exquisite.

"He did, my dear. He offended that lovely young man who visited me yesterday… To think, I only had one conversation with him through the wall. Impressionable sort, those old perverts, aren't they?"

Once the corpse had been taken care of, Shadwell slithered in again.

"So… have we been waiting enough?" Shadwell whispered.

"I'm afraid we have. Tracy has everything at the ready. Please, do get a wiggle on."

"You got it, laddy. You got it."

***

Crowley rushed back to Scotland Yard. He hadn't slept in two days, but it could wait. Chugging on his third energy drink of the day, Crowley pulled out the Archangel's file and began investigating each person who had killed themselves and was claimed as one of Archangel's  _ victories. _

They were all lonely queer people, disowned by their families, paid generously to stay far and closeted. They were buried under wrong names, they were left without a proper burial, they were humiliated even in death. The only reason the whole thing had been investigated was that Dr Hai had discovered a pattern, but that pattern had a flaw - Dr Hai didn't know about all those people being queer. She had only established that they were lonely. 

Crowley was fuming. He needed no coffee, he wanted no rest. Each phone call left him angrier and sadder. 

He left the office and drove to a parish of one Gabriel Fell. 

***

Gabriel came by to his own reflection. He was missing both legs, and the place - his own kitchen, he realised, - smelled of thyme and oregano. 

"Welcome back, brother," a cheery voice came. "You have little time, I'm afraid. Your anaesthesia will soon wear off, and I do need those arms and belly for the stew I'm making… Father Sandalphone wouldn't want to treat his guests to some badly made stew… Like the ones you serve at your charity events. Your congregation only deserves the best, and while there's little of you of any substance, I'm afraid in this case, quantity and quality go together quite well…"

"You… you sinner. You… you…"

"Save your breath, brother dear. I want you fresh." Mr Fell replied, stirring the stew. Then he turned to father Gabriel. "You thought you could trick me. You thought you could harm those I love… Yes, we only ever discussed London, but really, my dear… After all the sermons I wrote for you, I counted on you to be wiser."

"You… you'll eat your own brother!" Gabriel laughed.

"Oh dear… you're quite delirious, aren't you? I'm so happy you disowned me, brother. No one knows what I look like. Father Sandalphone won't have any suspicions. Isn't it just lovely?" Mr Fell, Aziraphale approached Gabriel. He was serious and calm, and Gabriel was afraid of that. Each time he had humiliated his brother, he knew that Aziraphale wouldn't say a word, wouldn't do anything, but the Aziraphale who was cooking Gabriel's legs in thyme and oregano wasn't afraid, wasn't even remotely remorseful. "I'm tempted to cut off your arms right now… You might pass out, though. I want you to watch, you see…"

"Just imagine… you'd be cursed by your own abominable kind!" Gabriel spat. He was tied to a chair and he was bleeding, but he wouldn't give up, oh no, he wouldn't embarrass his Lord who hadn't even existed. 

"Oh, rightfully so, dear brother. I don't deserve their acceptance. I just want to cure the world of you. You're worse than any virus… and to think, I enabled you. I handed you that power, I relied on you to be true to your word… In a way, you were, but it's not my way. It's alright if my own kind hate me. They have every right to do so. You, on the other hand, you are my brother. You're family… It's of no importance now. I need to cut off your arms, so there's going to be a bit more of anaesthesia… There you go. Brilliant. You're doing so well."

Gabriel stopped feeling his arms, and then he saw it in the mirror, his little brother cutting off his arms and chopping them into the stew. 

"I'm afraid it's time to say goodbye, brother. Need your head. Need your belly. Need to make this stew properly delicious. Goodbye, Gabriel. It wasn't even remotely nice knowing you. You killed both our parents when you found out they supported me. You killed Michael when you learned she fancied women. You killed your own kin, and I can't bear that I won't see your face when you meet the Almighty and they will tell you they are queer. There's no place for you in Heaven, there's no place for you in Hell. So long." 

Aziraphale took a knife and slashed Gabriel's throat. 

***

Crowley was stuck in a traffic jam. He couldn't move, he couldn't think clearly. Time was going on, time rushed on, and he was stuck. 

He called Dr Hai to inform her he was going to hack the entire cell phone system of London. Dr Hai made a noise of faux disapproval and hung up. Well, at least Gabriel Fell was still in his parish.

***

"The boy will disapprove," Shadwell said as he entered the kitchen. 

Gabriel's chair was empty and a large pot was bubbling.

"I'm sorry about it… He's beautiful, that boy… Couldn't let my brother go on with his  _ mission _ though. Would you be so kind as to set Gabriel's car on fire, my dear Shadwell? Then go to Tracy. She'll be waiting, I am sure. Tell her I love her. Tell her she's a treasure. Tell her she can be open about helping those in need of help. As for me… I'll find a way out of it. If you ever see that boy, tell him… tell him I'd love to go for a picnic with him. Or to dine at the Ritz… He's a smart boy. He'll be here in no time. Make haste, my dear, and thank you for your kindness."

***

Father Sandalphone walked into father Gabriel's kitchen and stopped in his tracks. A handsome man, a bit younger than Gabriel, was cooking. He turned to Sandalphone and smiled.

"Hello, my dear. I'm a new volunteer. Father Gabriel told me he had texted you…" The man pouted. Sandalphone checked his phone to see that indeed, there was a message from Gabriel.

"I'm making something delicious for the congregation… Father Gabriel… You know him. He's away attending to those in need of spiritual guidance. He can never say no, can he? What a wonderful man he is!"

Father Sandalphone agreed wholeheartedly. 

That evening, after the service the entire congregation, straight and white and pious, feasted on the best stew they had ever eaten, feasted on the flesh of their priest who would have to be reported missing in a day or two. 

And as the congregation ate and praised the new volunteer, Crowley finally made it to father Gabriel's house. 

He found Aziraphale cleaning the kitchen.

"Where… where is your brother?"

"As of the moment, he's being eaten by his congregation. I'm sorry it has come to this, dear boy. I thought… I thought no human could touch my heart, but you did… Had I been wiser, perhaps we could have had it all. You know… dates, flowers, chocolates, a lovely wedding, if I'm lucky. But I had to get rid of him, of Gabriel. Do call the police, my dear boy. I'm to be caught."

"You were reported missing an hour ago. Fucking run. I've never seen you. Run, Angel. I don't care what anyone else thinks. You saved me. Run."

"I hate it… that I have to run. I'll get myself into trouble for your sake, you know? So that you can find me. If you want of course."

"Run!" Crowley yelled.

***

He walked into the church, calm and collected. Took a sample of the stew from the pot and left. 

The whole congregation was arrested the next day.

Crowley and Dr Hai made sure they were convicted for murder and cannibalism. 

As for Mr Fell, he was a wanted man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous violence here. Beware

Father Sandalphone escaped imprisonment and judgement. His church was rich, his church could afford the best lawyers. Father Sandalphone only wanted one thing - to find Ezra 'Aziraphale' Fell and to avenge his teacher, his beloved father Gabriel. 

Even the church could do nothing to Anthony Crowley, the head profiler with the Met Police. Dr Hai protected him, and it turned out Dr Hai had some influential friends within the church. 

Father Sandalphone was convinced the Lord was on his side. Damn the church if they supported all those  _ damned people _ . Father Sandalphone was ready to have his revenge. 

***

Anthony Crowley was busy training some young profilers. His lecture was good, was a masterpiece, actually, then Dr Hai called.

"Crowley. Beware, ok? Come have a cup of wine tonight?"

Crowley agreed and went on with his day. 

Then Tracy called.

"Hello,  _ little darling _ . He was reported missing in a small Alpine village. Please, find him and save him."

Crowley cancelled the rest of his day.

It had been two years. He knew that father Sandalphone was still out there, but what could one fanatic do against the majority of his own church?

A few calls proved that one religious fanatic could do quite a lot.

Crowley cursed and ran to his Bentley. 

"He wants to catch you, Crowley, don't you understand?" Dr Hai yelled at Crowley on the phone.

"And if he has Aziraphale, Ela? If he has the only man who…"

"Who what, Crowley? I knew he'd get into your head, but…"

"Did you know he had never eaten anyone? He made it all up so that Gabriel never touched any queer in London? He wrote all Gabriel's sermons, did you know that?"

"He what? Crowley… Fuck, he what?"

"He… he never… I'll tell you one day. He never killed anyone, Ela. Never ate anyone. I checked it. He did it all so that Gabriel wouldn't kill anyone, and then he did anyway. Gabriel killed their parents and their sister. Aziraphale couldn't protect them, so he protected us. You, me, countless others. I investigated it all. There hasn't been a day I didn't think of Aziraphale. He spent ten years imprisoned to keep his brother at bay. He gave it all up for us. Angel. He deserved it, that name. I'll walk into any trap for him."

"Alright, Crowley. I'm pulling some strings. You're not alone. Rescue his angelic arse."

***

Aziraphale opened his eyes slowly. He was in Gabriel's kitchen, tied to a chair. The mirror confirmed he still had all his limbs intact.

"Must have calculated it wrong…" Sandalphone lifted the meat cleaver Aziraphale had used on Gabriel. "It's all for the better, though. Want you to suffer for my teacher."

"Well, be my guest." Aziraphale was indeed quite calm. Perhaps he knew that his help was breaking every traffic law to get to him. Perhaps he thought he deserved Sandalphone's revenge. "Though, if you miscalculated the dosage, then… you're just as much of a fool as my brother was."

"I will make it slow for you. Will keep you alive for days. You'll beg for death…"

"Oh no, I doubt that. I've been dead for quite a while now."

"Don't worry. Crowley is coming too." Sandalphone smirked.

"Oh, is he? Then I'm afraid you're going to be so dead in a few minutes, dear. See, my fire-haired darling is always so fast, so smart. I've been following his career… He's brilliant."

"I'm going to cut off your legs now…"

"Oh but my dear, you can't do it with a cleaver. Human bones are very strong, didn't you know? I suppose you wouldn't know, since you have none in your body."

"Freeze! The police! Drop your weapon! The house is surrounded!" Crowley yelled.

"Darling, beware, he has… supporters," Aziraphale warned. 

Sandalphone was on the floor the next moment, clutching his hip.

"Oh, a dangerous shot. What if he dies?"

Crowley didn't reply. He fired three more shots followed by low thumps.

"Shut up, angel. I need to get you out of here before anyone catches a sniff of you being back in London."

"As usual, spoken like a true demon."

"Fucking hell… you shouldn't look so… merry being tied up!" Crowley rushed to free Aziraphale of his bounds.

"We could negotiate our kinks later. Sandalphone's congregation isn't the merriest people you could think of…" 

A shot was fired, and Crowley sank to the floor. Aziraphale grit his teeth. He grabbed Crowley's gun and shot the invisible assailant. 

There was another thump. Aziraphale finished freeing himself from Sandalphone's knots and lifted Crowley.

"You try to take him away from me… you'll be but sausages in your kids' lunch boxes. Back off!" Aziraphale's voice boomed through the house.

Erect as a dancer, he carried Crowley back to the Bentley. 

"You wait, love… just hang on there. I'll save you. I saved you once, I'll save you again. You saved me once, too… you came in all your glory, sassy, beautiful, avenging… I thought about you every day, darling. Crowley… Anthony… I thought about you every day. Thought about your legs around my waist. Thought of your lips on mine… I'm damned anyway, so it doesn't matter if I dreamed of someone so much younger than me… You stay with me, love, you stay with me. Tracy will take care of you. Stay with me, darling… oh please, stay with me."

Aziraphale drove through London, ignoring the traffic, rushing to his old bookshop. Midway he called Tracy.

"My dear? My darling boy is wounded. I believe a surgery is required. I want him alive…" Aziraphale realised he was crying. "I need him alive, please, keep him alive. Maybe he'll let me take him on a date. Please… please… be ready."

He carried Crowley to the backroom of the shop where Tracy had been waiting at the ready.

"Just…" Crowley tried. "Just…"

"Not leaving you like that, darling. Never." Aziraphale held Crowley's hand, pressed it to his lips. 

"Yes… don't leave me… don't… don't leave me…"

***

Crowley was fast asleep and with his mothers next to him, when Aziraphale left his bookshop. He took Crowley's Bentley and drove to his late brother's parish. 

Sandalphone was still lying on the floor, bleeding and cursing and praying. 

"You hurt him… my fire-haired boy, my beautiful darling, my equal, my likeness. You hurt him… I'm afraid hell has no fury like… I'll show you…"

Aziraphale lifted Sandalphone easily and carried him to Sandalphone's own car, another luxury gift. Aziraphale made sure to tie Sandalphone to the roof so that the ropes crossed Sandalphone's wounds and chaffed against them. 

Shadwell came over an hour later to pick up Crowley's car. He had no instructions other than that, but he set the whole damn place on fire just the same. He knew that by then no child had been living there for a while.

***

Aziraphale dropped Sandalphone on a pile of dry wood. "Going to smoke you in thyme. Just like I did with Gabriel. I was merciful and kind, but then he came… my red-haired darling came. The first person to have insulted him in my presence died choking on his own tongue. Your people shot him. You're going to choke on your own cock, I swear."

Sandalphone felt something stinky pushed into his mouth, felt his ankles and wrists tied. 

"I wanted to take him to the Ritz. Have a picnic with him in the St James' Park. Feed the ducks. I tried to be kind, tried to be… peaceful. I can be as much of a monster as you and my brother are."

Aziraphale tied Sandalphone's ankles to his wrists. 

"They say that during the burnings, the victim would be mercifully killed before the fire even reached them… like, just you know, tossing the wood. I'll keep you alive for days. You're trained to take confession, aren't you, father? So here's mine."

Aziraphale lit the pile of wood.

"My parents were kind and naive. My parents were religious. They thought Michael and I were alright, but that Gabriel was a gift from Heaven… Gabriel… well… He burnt our house. I was away, on a date with a boy. My parents and my sister died. I left with my share of the inheritance, and Gabriel went on to become a priest. He hated me, he hated me with passion. After he tried to set me and my bookshop on fire, we came to an agreement. I'd go to prison, pretend I had killed all those arseholes I had made disappear. In return he wouldn't touch a hair on anyone's head in London. I wrote his hateful sermons and vomited my brains out afterwards. I spent ten years in confinement… Then he couldn't help it any longer… He began killing again. No one would have ever been able to prove it, of course, but I knew… I did. And that clever boy. That beautiful, lovely boy. I thought I'd never love again, but he sauntered over to me and smirked. So clever, so wily… Everything you lot weren't, he is. You'll die for him. It's my sacrifice to your god, who let you get away with your cruelty. He'll accept it. Of course he will. And I will have my boy. He'll be alive, and if I'm lucky, we'll dine at the Ritz one day."

***

Ten days later Sandalphone was found in a dumpster just outside London. He was still alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes smut.

Having recovered from his wound, Crowley considered retirement. Yet, he had nothing but his job, and his mothers' love wasn't enough anymore. He hated it and he enjoyed it that there was someone out there, blue-eyed, soft, beautiful, who had tortured a man for ten days to avenge his pain. That was some fierce, burning love - the same love that made Crowley drive like a demon to Aziraphale's aid. What could ever compare to it? 

And yes, he was a controversial figure, but still less so than Aziraphale. He had trained a generation of brilliant profilers, he helped catch many truly evil people. He missed Aziraphale so much he couldn't breathe sometimes.

A year after his wound he resigned and went to look for his angel. Tracy refused to help him, and he respected that, so he was on his own. 

"Don't want to be arrested, love," she said sadly. "When you find him…"

"I'll pass your regards."

"Clever boy. Good luck."

***

For a while Crowley just traveled around Europe. Having an imagination some would call a gift, and some, including Crowley, would consider a curse, he found a way to sooth his yearning, so everywhere he was, every time he looked at something he liked, he thought of how Aziraphale would react, what Aziraphale would say. "Oh, angel… We've just had such a great time. We've talked so much… Where the devil are you?"

He found Aziraphale in Florence. A librarian of course, and a brilliant scholar. 

***

Aziraphale dragged him to his office.

"What are you doing here? Have come to catch me? I saved you…"

Aziraphale was interrupted with a kiss. It had been years since his last one, but Crowley's kiss was different from any other. It was passionate, it was seeking, it was desperate. 

"Why are you running away from me,  _ Dr Caddo _ ? Why are you avoiding me?" Crowley asked, pulling back for a moment.

"I don't want you to be like me. A wanted man. Hiding. On the run…"

Crowley interrupted him again. 

"You are a wanted man, angel. I want you. And you keep running away from me. How dare you?"

Crowley pushed Aziraphale down on the sofa and walked over to the door to lock it.

"Now…" Crowley began undressing himself. "Do help yourself out of your clothes, angel. I'm going to claim you as mine… You belong to me. I belong to you. We saved each other. We want each other."

He stood in front of Aziraphale, gloriously naked, sickle-shaped scars on his chest, his little dick erect and proud. 

"Or am I mistaken? I thought you wanted me. You held my hand through my surgery. You called my moms. You tortured a man for me… I admit, not the best courting ritual, but it worked for me…"

Crowley knelt between Aziraphale's legs, his angel now as naked as Crowley himself was.

"We need to stick together, you and I… I want to stick with you. I fucking want  _ you _ so fucking much." Crowley licked Aziraphale's leaking cock. "You want me too, don't you?"

"Oh my darling boy…" Aziraphale couldn't remember or finish his sentence. Crowley was straddling him, lowering himself on Aziraphale's cock. 

"Just as Goethe said… you can fuck me any way you like."

Aziraphale gasped and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his pupils were dilated, he looked mad indeed.

"Don't want to use you…" He put his hands on Crowley's hips and lifted him a bit to slam him back on his cock, to make Crowley whine in pain-pleasure. "Want to fuck you and love you… My darling boy… My reward. The only proof of the rightness of my choices… Come, baby, ride me. Take your pleasure."

Crowley smirked and grabbed Aziraphale's shoulders. "You don't know what you're asking for…" He rolled his hips, and unable to just watch Aziraphale's dizzy face, kissed him. "I'm going to ride you so hard…"

"Words, words, words, my dear…"

"Angel… I hate Hamlet." Crowley rolled his hips again, then started riding Aziraphale in earnest. Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's dick. 

"Want to suck it, dearest…"

"Oh you will… Gonna ride your cock, then your face. Gonna show you who you belong to… Ahh…" Crowley rode Aziraphale slow and steady, his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders, his lips on Aziraphale's mouth.

As soon as Aziraphale came inside him, Crowley rose to his feet on the sofa. The older man looked at him with dazed adoration, with awe - and then Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hips and pulled Crowley forward, turned them around and pinned Crowley to the wall, hoisting the young man's legs over his own shoulders. Aziraphale's knees pressing into the sofa, he buried his face in Crowley's crotch and moaned in delight, tasting them both.

"Oh… Fuck! The noises you make, angel… how do we taste together? Bet it's the best thing you've ever tasted… Yes, like that. Suck me, eat me… Let me taste too..."

"Oh no, my dear…" Aziraphale blew hotly over Crowley's folds and weeping cock. "I'm greedy. I have dreamed about you for so long… You'll taste when you come, darling." 

Crowley wove his fingers through Aziraphale's messy curls, as Aziraphale's lips locked on his bussy again, an occasional passionate kiss on Crowley's cock… "You know, angel, as I traveled, looking for you… Tracy wouldn't tell me… I talked to you. Imagined entire conversations between us…"

Aziraphale looked up. "My sweet love…" He tenderly put Crowley on the sofa and kissed him. "I'm sorry… And I promised you'll taste us together when you come, but I can't bear to think you missed me so much."

"Bring your gorgeous cock and backside to my mouth, angel, and all is forgiven."

After appropriate adjustments, Crowley ended up sucking on Aziraphale's cock, while Aziraphale ate his bussy and gently licked into Crowley's arse. 

"Let me take you home, dearest…" Aziraphale interrupted his assault on Crowley's holes. "I'll eat you and you alone for days… you taste so good…" Aziraphale pushed two fingers inside Crowley's bussy and two up the young man's arse. "And take me so well… Lick me, don't stop."

Crowley doubled his efforts on Aziraphale's spent cock and his puckered hole. Aziraphale pushed Crowley down on his fingers, helping Crowley rock himself on Aziraphale's fingers. 

"My beautiful, my clever boy… is it good for you?"

Crowley hummed into Aziraphale's arse.

"It's good for me too… Let me take you to my flat. I'll lick you all over, I'll fuck you with my tongue and my fingers and my cock, and then all over again… Lick me, darling, oh fuck, lick me… Use your clever tongue on me…"

Neither of them could very well stand, Crowley's legs trembled after quite a few consecutive orgasms - pleasure, oversensitivity, more pleasure, an endless blue abyss he could get enough of. "Let's go, love…" Aziraphale himself was pale and wonderfully tired, still he held Crowley around the waist and led him through the evening streets, loud and bright and crowdy.

They had dinner Aziraphale had cooked. They kissed and kissed and kissed on the way to the shower.

"Gonna need a few days off…" Aziraphale said, kissing down Crowley's hips. "Need to prove to my darling that I'm serious… need to lock and lick my darling…" Aziraphale pushed his tongue inside Crowley's anus. He kept his fingers inside Crowley's bussy - one, two, then four, then his entire fist. Crowley held on to the tiles for dear life, shuddering in pleasure each time Aziraphale added another finger, and wailing when he felt Aziraphale's hand inside.

"Just look at it… you all loose on my fingers. You, all mine to fuck, fuck, fuck… Safe word, my love?"

"Stop… that's my safe word. Can't think of anything else, angel… fuck, fuck, fuck. Your dick inside any hole you fancy or none at all… Take your pleasure…"

Aziraphale pulled his fist out and pushed it all back in one go.

It was April, and everything was yearning, everything was ripe, everything was sensual. 

"And what now," Aziraphale said - or asked - kissing down Crowley's spine. 

"Now… no we run, perhaps? Somewhere far and lost."

"Hm… all those people I… disappeared… I took half their assets… unless it harmed their families of course. Then I took nothing… But I suppose I have enough to get us an island."

It could wait of course. Aziraphale remained protected by his kindness, and no one who recognised him dared reporting him. 

A few days were spent in bed, with short breaks for food, but neither could keep their mouths and hands off of each other, so Crowley would suck Aziraphale off while Aziraphale made breakfast, however dangerous it was when Aziraphale was frying eggs, and Aziraphale would eat Crowley out, while Crowley ate said eggs. They made love everywhere, their knees and elbows were bruised, they couldn't care less.

"Your kiss on my neck is wearing off," Aziraphale would pout.

"I'm not sore anymore, and I got used to being  _ very  _ sore," Crowley would complain. 

"I have waited for you for so long, my love… I'm not wasting anymore time," Aziraphale promised when he left for work after four days of nothing but lovemaking. 

"You better be back on time, angel. I need you."

"I'm here, love… You naughty darling… I've just fucked you senseless."

"I like being senseless. Come back for more. Love you."

Crowley said it just like that, kissing Aziraphale's hands in the doorway, and it took Aziraphale's breath and composure away.

"Dearest… please, dearest… I love you too, my darling boy. I love you so much. I'll be back soon, my sweet…"

***

When Aziraphale came home that day, he found Crowley still naked, lounging on the couch, Aziraphale's laptop on his bony knees and a glass of wine in his hand.

"Hey, angel." Crowley greeted with a wicked smile. Aziraphale rushed to kiss him.

"What have you been up to, my darling?"

"Well…" Crowley took a sip of his wine. "I hacked you, angel, and bought us an island off the coast of Belize. I'm talking to a lovely architect right now… Owes you her life, so she agreed to give us quite a discount… She says we'll be able to move in in a month… I've also placed a standing order in a few local shops so that we get our food and books, of course…"

Crowley didn't finish, because the laptop was snatched away, along with the wine, and he was turned over and covered with his angel's strong and warm body. 

"Played with yourself, darling?"

"Had no one else to play with, angel…"

"Good… my beautiful boy… so good for me." Aziraphale lowered his trousers and pants and pushed inside Crowley smoothly. "And ready for me."

"Of course, angel. Both holes. Just for you."

Aziraphale held him tight and begant thrusting into Crowley's bussy with abandon.

"I… I can't be anywhere else, but inside you… I can't think of you without me inside you…"

"Angel! Fuck… oh fuck! I… I like my tongue and fingers inside you too. Don't want you to walk around empty-arsed…  _ Harder _ !"

Aziraphale thrusted harder, pressing down with all his weight, but Crowley suddenly whined in pain, and Aziraphale immediately stopped. "Darling? You alright…"

"B-buttons. Get rid of your fucking clothes, angel."

Aziraphale made haste to obey. When he returned to Crowley, the young man was on his back, smiling, pliant and waiting. 

"Come here, angel."

Aziraphale laughed and lay on his lover, slipping back inside easily.

Crowley bit his ear. "If you ever run away from me… I  _ will  _ eat you."

Aziraphale groaned. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being here, despite the tags.


End file.
